


Self Indulgence

by orphan_account



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Autofellatio, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Fantasizing, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 08:50:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being able to suck his own cock is one of Martin Crieff's lesser known talents. One night, to relieve the stress of a difficult flight, Martin indulges in some 'special time' alone in his hotel room - but unintentionally leaves behind some rather incriminating evidence to be discovered by one Douglas Richardson...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Self Indulgence

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt at the cabinpres_fic prompt meme: <http://cabinpres-fic.dreamwidth.org/6625.html?thread=11401953#cmt11401953>
> 
> _"Martin is short (but not "small") and VERY flexible. Therefore he is able to lick his own cock. It's the only way he can get off and relieve his tension a little bit._  
>  Somehow Douglas or Herc or both find out...  
> Make it smutty and make Martin blush."
> 
> \---------

Martin Crieff fell down onto the bed behind him, hitting the cheap cotton sheets with a soft and satisfying _wump_. Tired, exhausted, and not caring one wit about his crumpled uniform, the captain released a sigh of relief and simply lay there.

Today’s eleven hour flight had been long and stressful, complete with rowdy, drunken passengers (a stag do to Las Vegas – no doubt the flight back home would be rather more subdued), an irate Carolyn, and a bitingly sarcastic Douglas. Seeing as his first officer’s plans to visit his daughter had been cancelled due to the last minute booking, Martin could well understand Douglas’s foul mood. However, Carolyn’s antagonising and the flight’s general wearing down of both his dignity and willingness to deal with pissed-up rich boys, meant finally stepping off G-ERTI that evening had been a sweet escape.

Now, alone in his own hotel room Martin could finally relax.

The mattress beneath him dipped pleasantly, and the low hum of the overhead bulb was oddly soothing in the quiet night. Slowly the stress of the day seeped away from behind his tired eyes and the tension in his limbs began to ease. He pulled his legs up lazily onto the bed to tug his shoes off and dropped them over the side of the mattress, shrugging out of his jacket and taking a little more care to fold it neatly before placing it on the nearby chair. Eventually the jacket was accompanied by his shirt, trousers, socks and pants until he was sprawled naked on top of the covers. The summer temperatures of Las Vegas, even at night, made the room pleasantly warm and it felt wonderful as it washed over his bare skin.

_Hmmm…_

It had been a while since he’d felt this decadent and free to enjoy the simple sensation of his own body stretched out on sheets. A gruelling run of van jobs over the past week meant he had simply collapsed into bed every night in order to get some shut-eye, and before then his flights with MJN had required sharing a hotel room with either Douglas or Arthur. Not states of physical well-being or privacy much suited to a spot of naked relaxation. Or a quick, amenable wank…

That unbidden thought sparked a little something in Martin’s lower regions, and he gave a hum of consideration, shifting against the covers. It was a perfect opportunity, and a good orgasm before he settled down to sleep would be just the ticket to release all that left over stress and tension. His skin prickled pleasantly, light hairs rising in goose pimples as he felt his cock twitch in anticipation. But a hand job seemed a bland choice in the face of this impromptu time alone. Perhaps tonight, Martin thought, he could give himself something a little more…special.

Already flushed at the prospect, he regarded his half-hard cock lying against his thigh with interest and licked his lips. Oh yes. He was definitely up for that. Having only discovered his ‘talent’ recently after an interesting and (as Martin kept telling himself) purely accidental detour to an internet porn site that catered to more…experimental tastes than he was used to, Martin was still somewhat thrilled at his new-found capabilities. With the combination of his lithesome flexibility maintained since his younger days, and a rather generous-sized member that stood proud at eight inches tall (not all of Martin was ‘small’), he had developed a rather good knack for sucking himself off.

It wasn’t something he’d ever even thought about before seeing those rather instructive videos online, and even after the revelation of the auto-fellatio fetish site, he’d felt a little odd about the concept. Surely the sensation would be too weird to actually be enjoyable? Wouldn’t you be too aware that it was your own mouth and tongue, unlike the general disconnect you could create with just your hand? And surely the strain of any of those contortionist positions must be far too uncomfortable to fully get off on? But eventually the idea had niggled at his brain to the point that he’d given it a go one night, embarrassed but oddly proud that his physical abilities and proportions were a pretty high guarantee of success. After various attempts to curve his body over, and only just managing to trace the foreskin with the tip of his tongue, Martin had finally managed to wrap a set of wet lips around his cockhead on the sixth try. He then proceeded to surprise himself by sucking in the rest of his cock after only a few more goes, and was startled by the pleasure he experienced. The sensation had been strange, but very, very good. Practise when possible had eventually strengthened both his stamina to maintain the position, and the depth to which he could take his own erection, until once he’d actually managed to come down his own throat. Turned upside down it wasn’t quite like receiving a blow-job from another person, unable to reach the ever-sensitive frenulum very easily. But the sensation was novelty enough to light a spark each time Martin did it. Therefore he saved the effort for times when he was feeling particularly in need or wound up. 

And oh, _yes_. He was definitely in need and wound up tonight.

Stretching out his arms so that they were extended above his head, and his toes pointed down away from his body, Martin gave a groan as he limbered himself up for the task ahead. The knots along his back unravelled in a rather delicious fashion as he stretched, and his muscles began to work and loosen. His joints ached pleasantly as he rolled his hips up and down and he eased his shoulders back and forth into a comfortable position. Eventually, shifting his weight onto his top back and shoulders, Martin swung his legs up and over towards the wall behind the bed, letting gravity aid in pulling his hips and groin down over his face. A few shuffled movements until he could reach his arms out comfortably and a few languorous strokes with a loose fist, and his cock was bobbing to attention in front of him.

Now came the moment of truth.

Hunched over on his back in an easy c-shape, Martin tugged his cock forward a few times with his hand and pulled it down towards his mouth until, stretching out his wet tongue, he gave one quick lap across the tip.

_Oh!_

The first swipe was always electric and he felt a jolt of excitement run through him. This was going to be _good_. A proper indulgence in pleasure after so long working himself both mentally and physically would be a gorgeous release.

Again he stretched his tongue out and swirled it ever so gently round his foreskin so that it shifted over the sensitive head. The torment was divine. The next slow, sweet swipes reached a little further along his length, gradually deepening his stretch with gentle rocking movements back and forth. Finally his lips came close enough to his aching cockhead that he could reach out and press a kiss to the exposed flesh, pushing until he was enveloping the luscious head in the soft, wet warmth of his mouth. Too delicious to resist, he ran his tongue along the open slit. That caused a low moan at the taste of his own pre-come that had already started to gather there, and Martin felt a frisson of lust at the dirty thought of what he was doing.

_Such a naughty boy – what a sight. Imagine if someone could see you like this, arse up in the air, mouth full of your own, hard cock, servicing yourself like a dog–_

Martin gave a gasp and eased back a little for breath. His erection throbbed and ached in reaction to the thoughts running through his head. He’d long ago accepted his exhibitionist tendencies in the bedroom – had even indulged in it with previous girl and boyfriends when they’d been amenable – but combined with this, it was almost too much. He reached out again, craning his neck to tug his hardness back into the heat of his mouth.

 _But what if someone really did catch you? What would you do? What would you do if_ he _caught you?_

Martin whimpered, letting the fantasy spur him on, lips stretched filthily around his length as he squeezed it with one hand and drew it back in and out.

_He’s only in the next room, one door over. You’d like to see those eyes darken, wouldn’t you? That knowing smirk dancing on his lips as he raked his eyes over the curve of your body, chuckling in that low, rumbling tone that always thrills you as he watches you come undone._

Martin squirmed and adjusted himself, trying desperately to press himself further in by pulling at the back of his thighs with trembling hands, skin slick with sweat. Douglas had an increasingly common tendency to slip into his night-time fantasies, and currently he didn’t have enough rational power to think wrong of it.

Over the passing years they had grown ever closer at MJN and, with Douglas’ reordering of his life since his third divorce, had been spending more time together outside the cockpit. Invites to richly cooked meals in Douglas’ new, but lonely apartment, and trips out to chat in a good bar or to see a nearby air show between Martin’s van jobs, had helped them realise just how much they enjoyed each other’s company. As such, Martin had felt his views of Douglas shift towards something new, a turn for the lustful as he found himself taking a more appreciative notice of the older man’s good looks. Firm, strong hands with thick knuckles caught his eye on the flight deck as they wrapped around the control column, and he couldn’t help noticing the broad shoulders and smooth planes that looked tantalizingly good under those smart, uniform clothes.

Not that he would ever make a move on the full-blooded, heterosexual sky-god that was Douglas Richardson. Lord no! He’d save himself _that_ humiliation. But in the realm of fantasy it would surely do no harm to indulge in an active and horny imagination? Even if it did cause some embarrassing and unexplained moments of blushing in the cockpit the day after…

Getting into a rhythm now, Martin felt his desire grow more urgent, driven by the thought of Douglas standing in the doorway and gazing on, his warm, chocolate voice rolling out an obscene commentary on Martin’s actions.

_That’s it Captain, suck it down - as much as you can. Gosh, see how much you’re gagging for it? It’s practically dripping out your mouth you can’t get enough…and don’t slurp. What a mess you’re making…_

Suddenly the steady ache in his back became too much, and Martin drew himself off his own cock with a drag of wet lips, trailing spit and pre-come down his chin as unfurled to relieve the pressure. Still gasping and burning for more, he huffed out a breath, waiting till the backache receded a little. Although somewhat tempted, he didn’t want to simply jerk himself off now. The fantasy had captured his imagination and the explicit nature of fellating himself only made his mock exhibitionist performance all the more thrilling.

Glancing around as he waited, arousal still thrumming in his veins, his eyes caught sight of his phone on the bedside table. A hand-off from his brother, it was one of those new-fangled smart phone devices, all apps and fancy additions. He didn’t use it much other than for business calls for Icarus Removals and generally not-so-business-like calls for MJN.

But he did know for definite that it had a video camera and record function at hand.

_Maybe if I lean it against the lamp over there…and turn the camera at the right angle to face me over here, then I can–_

Martin flushed bright red.

 _I can’t. Not_ here. _I haven’t even done that at_ home _never mind in a strange hotel and especially knowing who’s on the other side of that wall lying in bed asleep or awake and listening and oh god too far. That would be going too far…wouldn’t it?_

But his cock gave a traitorous twitch and Martin groaned. He was already indulging tonight; why not fulfil another hedonistic impulse and truly enjoy himself? He did deserve a break after this long, hard week. Recording himself would be the cherry on the cake, stirred by the knowledge that the little camera would be capturing his every movement, every muffled sound and moan that spilled from his lips, incriminating evidence of his dirty deed. Not that he’d get off on watching himself back, but he couldn’t doubt the appeal of knowing that it was all being watched and observed - even if only by a machine. He would delete it straight after of course. No chance he’d leave a pornographic self-recording on his phone for someone else to find - no chance - it would be purely for the moment. Yes. That would be fine.

Hesitant but persuaded, Martin swallowed down his nerves and leant over the bedside table to set up his phone. A few clicks to change the settings, some angle adjustments here and there, and a quick test to make sure it wouldn’t fall over…and Martin was ready to press record. The angle would give a clear view of everything on the bed, and if he lay as he had before, it would all be on display.

He took a deep breath.

_Beep._

Moving away from the phone, Martin settled himself across the bed once more, and noticed that his erection was still at the ready despite the distraction, half-full and bobbing between his thighs. With one last glance at the camera, he re-assumed his bent over position, resting on his shoulders with legs drawn up above his head. He gave a moment’s hesitation and then, exposed to the camera, opened his mouth to lap at his cock once again.

Excited and skin tingling with the awareness of what he was doing, Martin took his time, making long, slow presses of wet tongue along the stretches of his length he could reach. It was teasing but good and soon his cock was slick with spit. He moaned at the thought that it would be glistening obscenely for the camera.

His mind wandered back to Douglas again, imagining it was his first officer filming him, standing right there watching him through the lens. He’d see the way Martin’s thighs were trembling with the exertion of holding himself over, the slip and slide of his cock down into his mouth. Hear Martin’s choked off groans as another hard suck and rock earned him a sudden spike of pleasure. Maybe Douglas would even rub himself off through his trousers, turned on by the sight laid out before him. Or maybe he would be unfeeling – cool, calm and collected as always – smirking in obvious amusement at Martin’s dirty, desperate feat.

Suction, hot flesh, slicked lips along his achingly stiff cock - it was all spiralling into one sweet melting pot of erotic pleasure. Martin was desperate to come.

_Come on, Captain - nearly there. Don’t you want to show me what you can do? Doesn’t Sir want to impress me with his filthy little secret? That pretty pink mouth does look rather good stretched round that hard, red cock. Much better curling round a thick erection than fussy flight deck commands, that’s for sure._

Martin groaned, pulling his thighs in ever closer to try and take himself deep. He was getting close now, struggling to get in breaths around each mouthful he was panting so hard. The head of his cock, bulbous and sensitised, dragged along the insides of his cheek with luscious results. Although he couldn’t see it, the gaze of the camera played on his mind and he felt himself shudder and throb at the reminder that this was all on video.

_Just a little more…_

Finally, with one last deliciously wet pull, Martin tipped himself over the edge his orgasm peaking and filling his mouth with salty-sour come. He felt ripples of pleasure run through him as his body simultaneously tensed and unravelled, until eventually he was lying flat on his back staring at the ceiling unseeing, lips and chin streaked with his own release.

_Mmmm…that was so so good._

He felt drugged, blissfully at peace with the world. He would definitely sleep well tonight.

Gradually regaining his senses, Martin groaned a little as he realised how sticky he was and wiped his mouth in an attempt to clean himself up. His limbs were lax and loose, pleasantly heavy as he rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself up on the bed. Mission relieve tension most definitely accomplished. Getting up he grabbed a damp cloth from the bathroom to rub himself down, and after a momentary grimace in the mirror, simply decided to bear with the odd aftertaste in his mouth. Then, post-orgasmic sleepiness taking hold, Martin collapsed back on the bed, only remembering belatedly to grab his phone from the bedside table and press stop record. He dropped it back in place, assuring himself he would delete the video in the morning when he cared more, and shuffled under the warm covers to drift into sweet, amiable sleep…

 

\---

 

‘Martin?’

A knocking at his hotel door woke Martin from his slumber, and he pulled a face as he blearily turned over to look at the time. 8:00am? Surely they had the full day off before flying the stag do revellers back to England again – what was going on?

‘Martin, are you up?’ Douglas’s voice was slightly muffled by the door. ‘Only Carolyn has been ever so kind and only deigned to inform us, in her own time, that check out is at nine today. Some cheap, express deal she wheedled out of the hotel manager. And you know she’s been extra touchy about MJN’s purse strings lately.’

Martin groaned and dragged himself out of bed, only just remembering to pull on pants and shirt before opening the door to his first officer.

‘Mmf, what?’

‘Ah, good morning _Sir_ ,’ Douglas drawled, ‘slept well?’

‘I’ve barely had enough sleep to recover from yesterday’s flight. What’s Carolyn playing at?’ Martin scowled, rubbing his face to try and wake himself up.

‘Again, I stress that I too was only informed this morning. Luckily I was up at dawn to phone my daughter before her afternoon Jiu Jitsu classes, and as such was prepared for Carolyn’s rude awakening.’

Grumbling, Martin slunk back into the room to gather his towel and uniform, preparing for a quick shower before breakfast. Douglas came in after him and closed the door. Sharing morning routines was pretty casual between them now, especially since they were often stuck with a twin room together.

‘Couldn’t check the news and weather forecast on your new-fangled phone could I? Only one of the perks of this hotel is the free internet access, and I’d rather make the most of our short time left.’

‘Yes. Of course.’ Martin yawned, and headed towards the bathroom. ‘I’m just taking a shower, won’t be long.’

It was only after shaking off the dullness of sleep under the (mildly) warm spray of water that Martin had his epiphany. Or more specifically, he suddenly remembered last night’s debauchery. In particular the decision to film it all on his phone.

The phone Douglas had just picked up from his bedside table.

And still had the video open since he’d forgotten to delete it last night. 

Panicked, Martin turned off the shower so fast the dial gave a rusty squeal and he leapt out onto the mat – _oh god oh god_ – but stopped himself from going any further when he realised that blundering out and snatching his phone would be an absolute guarantee that Douglas would suspect something.

Maybe nothing had recorded –? _It beeped! You remember the beep_ – Maybe the video wouldn’t still be up on the screen –? _You’re not that lucky_ – Maybe today was his lucky day and Douglas would just happen to miss a full screen, closing snapshot of his own naked self reaching out to switch his phone off, thoroughly shagged out and stretched across his rumpled hotel bed loudly proclaiming what kind of activities had been taking place just minutes before…

A flood of emotions ran through Martin, from the dread of imminent humiliation, to the confusing spark of lust awakened at the idea that Douglas would actually catch him in the act, albeit a pre-recorded act. He shook his head vigorously to try and rid himself of such thoughts, and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He couldn’t hear any noise coming from outside the bathroom. Whether that was a good or bad sign he didn’t know, but he’d have to face Douglas either way.

Shaking a little, he pulled on his uniform and strained his ears for even a hint of what Douglas might, or might not, have discovered in the past ten minutes whilst he was in the shower. Still nothing. Martin screwed his eyes shut and took a steadying gulp of air. He would just have to walk out, act as if nothing was wrong and hope, hope, hope for the best.

Pushing open the bathroom door and holding his breath, he looked up to see –

‘Oh, _Martin_.’

Douglas was sitting on the bed opposite and had raised his dark eyes to Martin as the door opened. Clearly, irrevocably he was holding the phone face up in his right palm, grandly playing the X-rated recording of last night’s auto-fellatio session on full-screen.

Martin flushed so hot he thought he might combust on the spot.

_Ohgodohgodohgod–_

He was frozen in place, stuck staring at Douglas’s openly smirking, but equally flushed face, avidly trying to tear his eyes away but unable to even blink.

‘You have had _quite_ the night.’

Douglas had stood up and was walking towards him now, and as the man got closer, so very close to Martin who still stood trembling in the doorway, Martin could hear the sounds of his own panting and quiet moans emanating from the tiny phone speakers. He’d never felt this dirty or lost for words in his life.

‘Did you purposefully leave this for me to find?’ Douglas was asking, voice a low and husky seduction as he held up the phone. ‘Because for you this was an unexpectedly sly and crafty move, Martin – but I must say a pleasing one. We’ve been getting rather close recently, haven’t we? And I’ve definitely been keeping track of all those lovely, lustful looks you’ve bestowed – rather liberally I must add – upon my person when you think I’m not looking. All those long, lazy ogles in the flight deck and out at the bar in my jeans. I did wonder how long you’d take to cotton on to my own looks of interest…this has been going on for quite a while now hasn’t it Captain…?’

_Definite interest? A while? What?!_

Martin’s mind roared with this new, but astonishingly welcome information. How had he missed _this?_ Douglas Richardson wanted _him?_ And if he wasn’t mistaken now Douglas was standing, the other man was sporting a rather prominent erection down the left leg of his uniform trousers from seeing that video.

Amongst the confused but elated mess in his head, Martin scoured his memories of the last few months spent with Douglas. Times he’d leant over to fetch paperwork from across his desk and looked back only to find Douglas glancing swiftly away from him, a light smile on his face. Times when, out at the old Brandywine down the road on Fitton high street, Martin had noticed Douglas’s gaze lingering over his face and open neck thinking only that his first officer was lost in thought or bored of his babbling about aviation. Times in the flight deck when during a word game Douglas would be watching him, waiting for Martin to take his turn, and Martin would turn away only to find after a few minutes in thought that Douglas was still turned his way, having never broken his gaze. Looking back there was a lot of incidental moments that no longer seemed quite so incidental. Douglas really _had_ been looking at him recently. Gosh.

But the video, that wasn’t anything to do with all that! He hadn’t known or meant what Douglas thought he’d known or meant regarding them both.

‘The video was an accident! N-nothing to do with you!’ Martin squeaked, and instantly regretted it.

Douglas face dropped in one fell swoop, ‘Oh.’ He blinked, looking appalled at himself. ‘Oh, god I–’

Taking a sharp step backwards, the older man dropped the phone like it was on fire, a clear expression of guilt on his face for his own apparently invasive and inexcusably lecherous approaches. ‘Then Martin I must apolo-’

_Nonononono –_

‘No! I-I mean – wait!’

Martin reached out and pulled Douglas back into his personal space, nearly stumbling and cracking his head on the bathroom doorway in the effort.

‘The rest of what you said is still all true!’ Martin desperately babbled, trying to set things straight. ‘I-I have been looking at you, and I am very, _very_ interested – but I never knew you felt the same. Not until now. The video was just an accident, b-but if it leads to this and you telling me you wanted me…’

It was Douglas’s turn to stare and Martin gulped, blushing to his ears.

 _Oh, I never wanted him to know this way – god a bloody_ masturbation _video – but god-damn it if I’ve messed this up –_

However, slowly but surely a familiar smug smile crept back onto Douglas’ face.

‘Well , if that’s the case…’ Douglas drawled, voice low and casual again.

Martin couldn’t help nodding vigorously, fingers still gripping Douglas’s arms as if he couldn’t quite let go.

‘…then perhaps we might want to start over again.’

‘Yes! Yes,’ Martin gasped and grinned nervously as Douglas leaned forward to put his face near his, taking a quick pause before pressing his lips snugly against Martin’s.

_Oh, gosh._

Taking their time, the kiss was slow and languorous, and Martin felt his head rush with giddiness at the gorgeous feel of Douglas’s mouth against his own, soft and wet. Just as wonderful as he’d imagined. Douglas’s arms wrapped around Martin’s waist to pull him in closer and Martin ran his hands up the other man’s chest, appreciating the warm, sturdy frame beneath the crisp linen shirt. The kiss deepened and he couldn’t help letting a small moan escape as Douglas nipped at his lower lip.

‘Hmm…you taste delicious’ Douglas murmured as he pulled away, and Martin flushed.

‘So do you,’ Martin replied, and pressed another kiss to the corner of Douglas’s mouth, gaining him a huff of amusement. Shuffling a little out of their embrace, he glanced at the clock by the bedside table worriedly.

‘Yes, we don’t exactly have the time right now,’ Douglas said, following his gaze, ‘but shall we settle something back in Fitton? I would very much like to take you out somewhere properly before this goes any further. A real Richardson experience.’

‘Definitely. I’d like that,’ Martin agreed, grinning, still not quite believing his luck as he gazed a little dazedly into Douglas’s eyes.

They parted properly this time, disengaging after one more kiss, and Douglas left to fetch his things before check-out leaving Martin to gather his own stuff, high on the shock and revelation of the last 15 minutes. Back in the corridor they met up to go downstairs to meet the others, brushing shoulders and exchanging matching smiles.

‘I er, must say you um, have some rather _impressive_ talents in the bedroom Martin,’ Douglas coughed as they moved into an empty elevator. ‘I’m a little scandalised actually. Can’t say my own merits quite match up in that arena.’

Martin felt his cheeks burn at the reminder of the video on his phone, and the implicit compliment about his, _ahem_ , proportions.

‘W-well it’s not something I do regularly a-and I certainly don’t make a habit of filming myself. Really, believe me! You just happened to have spectacularly bad timing. O-or good timing maybe, considering it actually led to this...’

Douglas snorted, and slipped an arm around Martin’s waist, leaning in close to the man’s ear.

‘Really. Well, if I might be so bold as to ask, there wouldn’t be a chance I might request a _private_ viewing one day?’ Douglas’s eyebrows waggled suggestively.

Martin laughed a little at the ridiculous gesture and flushed a fetching shade of pink, pressing closer.

‘One admission only,’ he said, and Douglas leant down with a chuckle to kiss him again as the elevator pinged to signal its arrival on the ground floor.


End file.
